The unholy communion between the biological and not-so-logical, illustrated succinctly with clips from the PRELINGER ARCHIVES. A Stepford wife demeans you with her knowing gaze, while another handles a teapot, short and stout but packed with chromium punch. It delivers what her flaming man cannot. Do you care that the siren reveals her true nature by her spasms, her sparks, her smell of ozone? The overworked invisible cyborg mimics the Israeli bulldozer corps. You are denied access to the coldmaker by the blonde mannikin. Men of science genuflect to the machine, receive punishment, then genuflect again. The Bishop's enormous new hat is delivered by truck. The Diddly Men, untouched, evoke a gentler age as they dance to internal rhythms. Imps regard the totality with confusion, the UFO arrives, and the birth of the machine signals the end of all. Though this document is apocalyptic, the musical score is straight from heaven itself, wrote by a angel on a cloud with a Jumbo Sharpie.
Close your eyes and be tranported, open your eyes and be damned. It's kind of like a visit to the optometrist.
The uploaded files are the VCD-ready MPEG1 and the Quicktime. Any other formats were generated automatically by frequently faulty automatic procedures. MPEG 4 files derived from my uploaded movies are usually messed up.